Ballerina
by Kathryn Claire O'Connor
Summary: Tony sees a very interesting poster on a coffee run that lets him know just what an old friend had been up to. Set nine years after Ziva left the show.
1. Chapter 1

He missed Ziva. Even nine years later – six years after they had given up on maintaining any sort of contact with one another – there were days when he missed her like he did nothing else in the world – like missing her was his job. Had it been his job, it would've been a job he hated, a job that he had been told to quit by many of his friends, family and coworkers, but he still found that no matter how much he wanted to quit it, most days he just couldn't. Unfortunately, today was no exception.

At least the weather matched his mood today, though. The sky was overcast and gray, looking as moody as Tony felt. He and the rest of Washington D.C. was even being rained upon, albeit lightly, as he walked back to work after going out on a coffee run for his team.

The coffee carrier in his hands was the only warm thing about Tony as he alternated between jogging to get back to his warm office and going slow enough that he didn't spill the contents of the six Styrofoam cups he was carrying.

Today was not a day that felt like it wanted to be happy, and so Tony wasn't happy either. He was in one of his jogging sprints when a poster on a nearby theater caught his eye. He stopped mid-step and walked backwards towards the poster, almost completely dumping all the coffee but suddenly caring even less then he had a minute ago.

When his gaze finally focused on the poster, Tony's mouth went dry as he realized what exactly he was seeing. A poster for a ballerina's upcoming performance in the theater that had been photo-shopped to look like something out of the twenties. It was hardly the photo-shopping that caught his eye, but the lone person portrayed in the poster. Decked out in full ballerina regalia, complete with even a feather in her hair, the exotic-looking woman was frozen on the poster in a graceful pirouette, her expression the very definition of poise.

It _couldn't _be. But it was.

Tony cocked his head to the side, peering closer at the face of the beautiful woman in the poster, the rain falling down and coffee in his hands both long forgotten. It seemed so out of character for her to have become a _ballerina_, but then, wasn't that what she had always wanted when she was little?

It was her way of reclaiming some of her innocence, Tony realized as a certain facet of her expression caught his eye. She was smiling.

She wasn't really _smiling_; it was supposed to be a serious picture, he knew, so she wasn't actually grinning, but it was there, the barely noticeable tilt at the corner of her mouth, that certain spark in her eye that was so familiar to him. She was happy.

But there was something else there too, and Tony didn't think that it was thanks to the photo's editing. There was a look of something else about her, and at first Tony couldn't identify it. Then it hit him. Freedom.

Ziva looked… free.

Suddenly Tony found himself smiling despite the chill in the air, the gray skies, and the rain. He finally had proof that Ziva had found happiness, and that meant that he should be happy too.

Tony laughed to himself and restarted his trek back to NCIS, already wondering what his coworkers would think if they found out that he had spontaneously bought tickets to a ballet.

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><p><strong>This is a one-shot that I've had in the back of my mind since I found out that Ziva would be leaving NCIS, and I just now decided to jot it down for you guys. Hopefully you enjoyed it! Reviews make my day, and I'd like to know how you would feel about a continuation of this. Thanks!:)<strong>

**P.S. I've got a new poll up, if you guys want to take a look at it! Thanks!:)**


	2. Chapter 2

**This was only supposed to be a one-shot, but I got enough requests for another chapter that I thought I'd turn it into a two-shot. Enjoy!**

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><p>Tony DiNozzo was not the type to be caught dead at one of these things. The theater was old and ornate and had a stunning interior, but those facts combined to make this nothing that he would've ever willingly gone to – at least not before now. Before he had seen that poster. Before he had realized that this was his chance to see her again.<p>

So here he was, finding a seat as close to the front as he could, just so that he might be able to get a good look at her. He had not yet decided whether or not he was going to try and get word to her that he was here, but making sure that she was doing okay had never been a matter that had been up for debate. If nothing else, that would become the entire reason he was here.

It had been nine years since he had seen Ziva, and he had learned to be okay with that. Knowing that she was back in D.C. – if only for a ballet performance – had stirred up some of those old feelings, though, and he had needed to do something about it. So he had come to the ballet, if only to lay eyes on her once again.

He wanted to talk to her, he realized, as the lights dimmed in the audience. He wanted to remind her that he was still here and still waiting for her, no matter how fruitless that might be. He wanted to tell her that he still loved her as much today as he had that day he had stupidly let her fly away from him.

Then she was on the stage, the only light in the cavernous room shining on her lithe figure, and all thoughts floated away as Tony was caught up in the spellbinding beauty of Ziva as she began her dance.

The Israeli woman lifted her exotic face towards the opposite wall and began to spin. The tulle of her skirt fluttered with the movement and she was beautiful, but more importantly she was happy and – there he saw it again, as undeniable as ever – she was free.

She was at perfect peace up there on that stage, Tony realized with a start. She was far, far away from the life she had lived while with NCIS, and that was how she needed it. He had come to that conclusion years ago, yes, to keep his own peace of mind, but at the end of the day, this – what he did or didn't do today – didn't have anything to do with his peace of mind; it had to be entirely about hers.

So he would do – he had no choice but to do – what he had already done once before. For her sake, he would let her fly out of here without his trying to stop her. He loved her enough to do that, he decided as the lights came on later in the evening.

So Tony stood up with the rest of the crowd as the show ended and slipped out of the theater, yet again, doing the hardest one-eighty of his life.

He curled his fingers around the handbill in his suit pocket as he walked towards his car.

Ziva deserved to be able to dance the rest of her life away if she so desired. So he had seen her once more, one last time, and now he would do what was best for the love of his life.

Starting his vehicle, he looked through the rearview mirror at the theater behind him, whispering, "Goodbye, ballerina."

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><p><strong>I hope you guys liked this! Reviews make my day, if you feel so inclined. Thanks!:)<strong>


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